


I'm Still Waking Every Morning But It's Not With You

by glimpseofbliss



Series: Teen Wolf Femslash Bingo [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimpseofbliss/pseuds/glimpseofbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Teen Wolf Femslash Bingo</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Still Waking Every Morning But It's Not With You

She always smelt like raspberries. 

She kissed Lydia in the rain, raspberry colored lipstick was all Lydia could think about on the way home.

She sang Freddy Mercury in the shower and Tim McGraw in the kitchen, loud and unashamed. She knew Lydia loved to hear it.

She proposed in Arby's, at the salad bar. She didn't have a ring, but she wrote a speech and Lydia said yes before she actually asked.

She watched Saturday morning cartoons, trapping Lydia between her legs and braiding her hair for hours. 

They got married on a rainy day in Kira's yard. She wore riding boots under her Vera Wang wedding dress and told Lydia that the moon revolves around the earth because she loves it, not because of gravity.

She always kissed like she was a starved man and Lydia was a banquet. Held her so tight, her hands were tattooed to Lydia's skin.

She planted three raspberry bushes, painted the bedroom strawberry red and bought pink couches. There were six plants in one room and twelve paintings in another. 

She couldn't leave the room without kissing Lydia, couldn't be in a room and not touch her. Would always find a way to gravitate towards her.

When their first raspberry bush had grown, she kissed Lydia all day, smiling so hard she could've cracked her teeth. 

She would dance around the house when Lydia would bake, long legs twisting and falling gracefully in the kitchen. 

She worshipped Lydia, made sure her mouth had been on every part of her body, her eyes on every inch of her soul. 

Lydia had loved her, even after the raspberry fiasco. It took them a week to clean the kitchen, Lydia falling in love with her more each day. 

She smiled at babies and dogs and children and old folks and teenagers, blessing them with a part of her soul. Lydia loved her more for that. 

Lydia was never 'Lydia' to her. She was 'angel', 'goddess', 'sweet pea', 'princess peach'.

She said God wasn't in the clouds but in bed with her every night, she said she's tasted God and she tasted like the only salvation she ever needed. 

When the doctors said it was cancer, she thanked them and offered to take them to lunch. She said having to tell someone they're dying was awful, apologized to them

She'd lay in bed for hours, tears intruding on her face. Lydia had no idea what to do, so she would wrap her arms around her and pretend they weren't there. 

She said she wanted to help people, couldn't see life beyond that. Didn't care for a life beyond that.  
She'd wake up at 5AM to go lay in the backyard, Lydia finding her an hour later with blankets and comfort. She knew she wasn't getting her back those days.

 

She said she only felt strong when it came to Lydia, only felt strong enough to fight because of Lydia. 

She fought long and hard, couldn't embrace the hair loss until Lydia came home that night sporting a bald cut. 

She hurt in every part of her body but loved with every single part of her soul, couldn't bear to let the pain ruin her like that. 

 

She died before the raspberries grew ripe and sweet, almost as good as they were in the wild. 

It poured the day of the funeral, the rain harsh sounding against the tiny wood box. Lydia remembered the raspberry colored lipstick. 

Derek tells her it gets easier, she doesn't believe him but she appreciates the sentiment. She rather be decaying in a hollow grave then let this get easier, it never got easier for her. 

She lets the bushes and the plants die, throws them away the day she packs her clothes away.

Lydia thinks she hates her, hates her for dragging her into this pain. It's been two years and she still can't say her name. Then she remembers her dimples and her eyes, the way she loved without limits or rules. And it hurts again. Because there's no long legs dancing through the house, no Highway Don't Care shrilling out in the kitchen. There's no cartoons or starved kisses. No speeches at noon about why she's so in love with Lydia's hair and no too wide smiles. There's no curious hands on her at all time and no more talking to the plants but what Lydia really hates the most. What tears every inch of her barely breathing body apart,

It never smells of raspberries anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come Yell At Me.](http://angelmalia.tumblr.com)


End file.
